Webster by Ellen Emerson White

Author:Ellen Emerson White
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Aladdin

CHAPTER EIGHT

They ran around unfamiliar roads for what seemed like a long time.

“This is nice and all,” Jack said, after a while, “but I’m really tired.”

That made two of them.

“Can we go home?” Jack asked. “And sneak out again, after we eat, and maybe rest a little?”

No, no, and no. This was supposed to be a nonstop, glorious, wildly eventful series of adventures. So, the Bad Hat shook his head.

Jack sighed. “Okay. I love you like a brother, Bad Hat, but I’m starving. I’ll try to come back later.”

With that, he turned to go.

Wait, just like that? “Um, you’re going to leave me?” the Bad Hat said. “By myself?”

“It’s lunchtime,” Jack said. “I need my nourishment. See you soon!”

As he galloped away, the Bad Hat could hear him shouting at the top of his lungs, “Gravy, gravy, gravy! Lots and lots of gravy! I can’t wait to have some very delicious gravy!”

When Jack disappeared around a curve in the road, the Bad Hat couldn’t help feeling a little sad and lonely. But, even though the compatriot system was sort of nice, it wasn’t like he didn’t know how to be by himself. And he preferred it that way!

So, the dog continued down the road, trying not to let his tail drag on the ground. Because he wasn’t sad. Nope. He was happy. He loved being a loner. Every single moment of his life was magical!

He was only trudging because he had hurt his foot, and didn’t want to put too much weight on it, that’s all.

And he wasn’t upset about not getting to have any gravy.

As he limped along, enjoying every single second of his total isolation from the rest of the world, his delightful silence was suddenly broken by about a trillion voices all shouting at once.

Or, anyway, at least a couple of hundred.

All he knew for sure was that it was a school of some kind. Children often looked alike to him—mostly because not many kids had ever been nice to him, and so, he had learned to ignore them as much as possible.

These particular children seemed to be about twelve years old, maybe. The playground was crowded, and noisy, and there were balls of various kinds being hurled around. Footballs, baseballs, soccer balls, basketballs, red kickballs, and even two girls playing catch with lacrosse sticks and a tiny hard rubber ball.

The Bad Hat stared, with his mouth hanging open in wonder. Balls! So many balls! Wow!

Most of the kids were playing games, although some were sitting in small groups and talking. A few others were by themselves, staring at electronic devices. The Bad Hat had never been able to figure out the complete fascination people seemed to feel for their silly gadgets. Whether they were walking, or in cars, or sitting down, so many of them gazed at ridiculous little gizmos nonstop. Such a waste of time, in his opinion.

Unless they were watching movies on the devices. Then, maybe, it was okay.

He really wanted to chase after

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